... Poor fool,
And didst thou think this present sensible world
Was God?...
.....
It is a name, ...
The name Lord God chooses to go by, made
In languages of stars and heavens and life.
And when, finally, he has won through to a certain palace at the "verge of things," he cries his question to the unseen king within.
Seeker. Then thou art God?
Within. Ay, many call me so.
And yet, though words were never large enough
To take me made, I have a better name.
Seeker. Then truly, who art thou?
Within. I am Thy Self.
Another aspect of the same idea, caught in a more lyrical mood, will be found in the poem called "The Trance." The poet is standing upon a hill-side alone at night, watching the "continual stars" and overawed by the vastness and "fixt law" of the universe. Then, in a sudden revelation of perhaps a fraction of a minute: